


there's a danger inside

by bravelikealady



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M, alcohol cw, but neither do these manchildren so, dramatic showers, the shield - Freeform, wow i love wrestling don't you?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravelikealady/pseuds/bravelikealady
Summary: -events post Monday Night Raw 14 August 2017-Seth and Dean separate once they get backstage, but they can't stop thinking about each other..."There's a strange love insideIt's getting louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louderThere's a danger I can't hideWho I am, it's who I amIt's who I am, it's who I am"





	there's a danger inside

**SETH**

**12:15am**

 

_ Forgiveness _ . 

 

He had dreamed of it. Dreams more like nightmares followed him for years. Dean’s hands in his hair, blood in his mouth, his own hands covered in blood… none of it mattering, absolvement, redemption, sealed with a kiss. He prayed for it, begged for it… walked away from it. And now… now, he had it… 

 

Seth closes his eyes, running a finger across his knuckles, the knuckles that only hours ago had brushed against Dean’s. In the last few weeks, they’d touched, sure: half hugs, pats on the back, a necessary tag or initiation. But this… knuckle to knuckle, a simple thing, it was the closest he’d come to feeling the weight of him again.

 

And that’s what he missed. The weight. 

 

The weight of something other than guilt. 

 

The pressure…

 

The pressure of Dean, of his unhinged morality, his seemingless endless chivalry, his readiness to burn.

 

Seth spent a lifetime warning Dean about playing with fire. And he had been the thing to burn him.

 

He drives now to the next city. He isn’t sure of the name, he merely plugged in the address he was given. He thought maybe tonight he wouldn’t ride along. But Dean was already gone when Seth had re-entered the locker room from his shower. 

 

_ I shouldn’t have walked away _ , he thinks. Not just to the shower, but earlier that night, but the week before, but ever at all.

 

“I’m glad we’re--” he had tried to say, but Dean had answered him abruptly with a, “yeah.” 

 

But he’d smiled. A smile Seth hadn’t seen in over three long years. He’d smiled back, he’d walked away, assuming it would be there when he was ready.

 

And now he rides alone.

 

He wonders how much time he has.

  
  
  


**Dean**

**1:05am**

 

“Are we close?” 

 

The question breaks the silence that has filled the car for an hour now.

 

“Pretty close. You need a food stop?”

 

“Nah, I’m good,” he can feel Roman looking at him.

 

The quiet stays long enough that Dean thinks his big brother is gonna show mercy, but no such luck.

 

“Do you wanna talk about anything? Anyone?”

 

“No thanks.”

 

“Alright, alright. Well… if you wanted to… that would be fine.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“Yeah. If you were thinking of--let’s say--forgiving someone that we both know… on a permanent basis… that might be okay.”

 

“Might be,” Dean gave a bitter laugh.

 

“But if you got caught up, didn’t know what you were doing… and you never wanted to risk it again. Might be alright, too.”

 

Dean groans and stares out the window more aggressively than he already was. He hears Roman give a knowing _ okaaay  _ and he hates it.

 

“Didn’t you almost die tonight or something? Ain’t ya got your own business?”

 

“I do, I sure do…”

 

“Why the fuck are you smiling?”

 

“I just love life, Dean.”

  
  
  


**1:52am**

 

Dean heads to his room after successfully escaping Roman’s car and the elevator without having a visible emotion. He throws his duffel bag on the floor, he turns the shower on as hot as it will go, launches himself at one of the double beds face first. 

 

“Aaaauuuuuugggggggh,” he screams into the pillow. 

 

Once the steam begins to curve outside of the bathroom and into the small kitchenette area Dean strips and heads into the shower. He lets it scald his skin, watches his blood run to the surface. He thinks better of it, runs dripping to the minibar, and climbs back in the shower with a mini bottle of whiskey. It burns all the way down as he chugs it. 

 

_ Really should’ve let Roman feed me. I’m drunk. _

 

But then that was the point.

 

He closes his eyes and leans forward, let’s the hot water hit his neck, run down his back. All he can see, eyes opened or closed, are Seth’s eyes. He feels more than the hot water along his back. Seth’s hand, to tag him in. Seth’s hand, to lift him up. Seth’s hands on a steel chair to tear his world apart, to guarantee he’d never be the same, to even set Roman down a path Dean couldn’t follow…

 

And tonight, away from a roaring crowd, after the heat of battle, Seth’s hands resting for just a moment on the small of his back. His breath caught now just like it did then. 

 

_ And then he just walked away. _

 

Dean could’ve stayed, waited. Could’ve charged into the showers, screamed at him, cried, begged for… hell, he didn’t know what…

 

_ But I’m the coward _ .

 

He slams his fist into the shower walls repeatedly. He remembers it’s sort of his job to punch functionally so he stops. He sits down in the shower. He’s out of mini bottles. 

 

**2:21am**

 

Dean figures he has two beds in this hotel room he can ruin one of them. He is still damp, naked, lying on the bed away from the AC. Some show about ghosts flickers as the only light in the hotel room and Dean has finished the fourth and final mini bottle of whiskey that was in his room.

He tells himself he isn’t desperate enough to hit the vodka, but he closes his eyes for a moment, and again: Seth Rollins. 

 

Seth licking his lips, Seth reaching out and touching his hand, Seth walking by his side back to the locker room, the hand on the small of his back, a shared smile as Seth rounds the corner into the showers… and the other Seth, the taste of cement and blood in his mouth, diving from a cage because he doesn’t care if he lives or dies, Seth smiling with Hunter and Stephanie, a golden fool, holding everything Dean could never have, holding Dean’s heart in his hands…

 

_ Vodka it is _ , he says to some haircut on the tv yelling at a room of spirits and shit.

 

As he flips on the little overhead light over the fridge and tiny counter there’s a knock on the door. He takes his boxers from their crumpled home inside of his jeans on the floor and hurriedly tosses them on. Dean prepares to get yelled at for making too much noise in his drunken shower earlier, but when he opens the door--

 

“Hey.”

 

Seth.

 

“Hey…”


End file.
